Page 49 of Reckless Sinner

CHAPTER22

Delaney

Dante looked at me like I’d hung the moon. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve that. I had lied to him, been planning to betray him from the first, but he didn’t seem to care about that at all. What had I done to earn such a man, a man who loved me without caveat or reservation or condition?

I didn’t know where we would go from here. We were screwed no matter which way we turned. If Dante murdered my father, there would be no going back for him. He’d be in with his family permanently, in that way he had never wanted. But we couldn’t trust my father for help, and going against the Russo crime family sounded like an exercise in stupidity.

But I did know that I loved Dante, and that wherever he went, I’d follow. Not because he manipulated me into staying by his side, not because he controlled me, but because I wanted to be with him, because it was my choice.

I stood up, wincing a little at the blisters on my feet, and kissed him softly. I had to brace my hands on his chest to stay upright, more tired than I’d thought, the food warming me up and making my limbs heavy.

Dante kissed me back, just as soft, his hands carefully cradling my elbows to keep me from swaying too much.

“What do you need?” he murmured huskily. “Tell me what you need, whatever it is, I’ll give it to you.”

He sounded so incredibly earnest that my heart just about broke for him. He couldn’t promise me safety, or even promise me a tomorrow. After all, my father undoubtedly figured out by now that I’d escaped and he’d probably been able to guess where I’d gone. Dante and I were living on borrowed time.

But he still wanted to give me whatever he could, here, now, tonight.

I remembered my father’s hateful voice, his hand in my hair, treating me like an object. I wanted all of that touch erased, replaced with the claiming touch of the man I loved, the man who loved me.

I took a deep breath. My heart fluttered in my throat. “I want—I need—take me, fuck me, while I—while I struggle and say ‘no’.”

Perhaps it was the highest form of masochism. Perhaps it was a reaction to having no control over my life. A therapist would probably have a field day with me. But in that moment, I didn’t care. I just knew it was what I wanted, to be made so wholly and completely Dante’s, darkness included, that not even my own token protests could stop it. I wanted to feel helpless, like I had earlier, but in a good way, a way that overwrote the past.

Dante sucked in a breath and pulled back to look at me. “Delaney…”

“You want it,” I pointed out. “You want to…take.”

Dante looked away but I took his face in my hands and turned it back to look at me. “I know your darkness, and I know you would never actually hurt me. If I said…” I scrambled for something and my gaze fell on the remains of my food. “If I said toast, I know you would stop, because I wouldn’t be playing anymore.”

“Of course I would,” Dante blurted out, like it didn’t even occur to him not to listen to me.

He could protest all he wanted that he wasn’t a good man, but I knew the truth. “Please, then,please, I want to get out of my head and just—replace what he did to me, I want you to replace it with you and me, together—”

I think that was what did it. Dante wanted to take care of me. He said he’d been thinking of ways to help me when I’d shown up, having helped myself—he loved me, he wanted me to be happy. If this was what I needed, he would give it to me.

And this—this was the one place he could be dominant without fear of being like his father, or fear of others thinking that he was like his family. I could give this to him, too.

Dante kissed me, just as softly as before. “All right. But—you’re exhausted.”

I shrugged. “You’ll know how rough to be with me.”

Dante looked me up and down, like he was re-cataloguing all of the minor injuries I’d accumulated throughout the day, then nodded.

Fast as a snake, he bent down and scooped me up by my legs, throwing me over his shoulder. I screamed in genuine surprise, not at all expecting him to be able to move that fast. He was like a viper. It was so fucking sexy. Already I could feel my underwear and thighs getting slick.

“Put me down,” I protested. My weak struggles weren’t at all fake—I was genuinely exhausted and my muscles were incapable of mustering any more strength than this.

If Dante had really wanted to do something with me, I couldn’t have fought him off in my state. But he wouldn’t. I knew that in the deepest part of my heart and soul. We had a word I could use if I really needed a break or needed him to stop, and I knew he’d listen to me if I used it.

Dante didn’t toss me onto the bed, undoubtedly aware of my exhaustion, and instead flipped me over and pinned me down, both of our bodies going onto the bed at once so that I was always held. It was deceptively thoughtful, a move that allowed him to keep holding me like a prisoner while also being considerate.

I struggled beneath him, and when I realized his grip was like iron I gave up token movements and actually tried to see if I could get away. Not in my current state of jelly legs and arms. Not in the slightest. His hands around my wrists, his body on top of mine, his hard cock against my ass… it was so good, I was unbelievably wet and I panted with desire, not fear.

“Get off me,” I snapped, then whimpered as he dragged his cock lower, between my legs, so that it rubbed against my pussy through the fabric.

“Don’t,” I said, when what I really wanted to say was,don’t tease me!

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